


A Suit and A Smile

by crazddreamer



Category: WWE
Genre: AU, F/M, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25033963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazddreamer/pseuds/crazddreamer
Summary: A late night meeting
Relationships: Finn Balor/UFC
Kudos: 4





	A Suit and A Smile

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in March of 2019 and for some reason, I posted it to Tumblr, but never here.

It was late, after hours on a Friday night, and I was exhausted and frustrated. My gray pencil skirt was wrinkled from the long hours of wear, my feet were sore in the ridiculous Louis Vuitton pumps my sister had convinced me to buy, and a headache was forming over my left eye, a sure sign of a future migraine.

All I wanted was to go home and drink wine in my bathtub, but no, the CEO of Balor Enterprises had called this meeting with the head of Marketing, me, to discuss the plans for the annual fundraising event he held every year for medical supplies in under developed countries. And who was I to decline to meet with him?

Just his ex-girlfriend.

And he was late.

The thought had me growling under my breath and I stood from my seat at the conference table to pace a little bit. So typical of him to be late. Everyone had to run on Balor Time because he could never seem to get from one place to another without being sidelined or distracted. It was annoying, and in my mind, rude, which is why we broke up after only a few months of being together. He was a great guy, sweet, wonderful, caring, but not present, which is what I really wanted out of a relationship.

The conference room was warm, too, the sweat dripping down my back adding to my aggravation. A memo had gone out earlier in the day that workers would be in the building all weekend working on the A/C unit and it would be turned off the end of the business day. Guess that didn’t mean _my_ business day, which was still on-going due to a certain chronically late businessman.

Through the glass wall that looked out into my department, I could see rows and rows of empty cubicles, some of the fluorescent lights on and some of them off, the copy machine to the right, the coffee maker next to it in the small kitchenette, and the door to my office open and beckoning me in with promises of holding my things for me until I decided to leave.

Maybe I should. Glancing at my watch I saw Balor was more than twenty minutes late. How long was I expected to wait here?

As if answering my question, the door to the hallway opened and there he was, stalking towards the conference room at a brisk pace, a scowl marring his handsome face, wearing a black suit, with a white button down shirt underneath and the mint green tie I had given him as a gift when he won the Key to the City from the Mayor right before we broke up.

Pulling on the glass door, Finn Balor, CEO of Balor Enterprises, walked into the room and the scent of his cologne seemed to hit me in the gut. I’d always loved the smell, and it took every ounce of professionalism in my body to lock my knees and not pounce into his arms. His short dark hair was slightly mussed, probably from his own hands, and his beard had my fingers itching to scratch through it.

“What have you got?” he asked gruffly, his Irish accent cutting through the silence like a knife. I took that to mean he didn’t want to waste time and was in no mood for pleasantries. Fine, me either.

Reaching for the folder that was on the solid oak table, I flipped it open and handed him a mock-up. “The theme is Helping Hand, as you wanted. We’ve got some of the employee’s kids painting their hands and we’ll be using their handprints for most of the marketing sheets. Menus, banners, table cloths will all have handprints on them. Tastefully, of course, not like we’re in art class at the YMCA.”

With my finger I indicated that he should turn the page, and he did, still keeping his blue eyes focused on what I was presenting.

“Here are a few of the presentations. Mr. Zayn has not confirmed he will attend, but in case he does I have his profile ready to go. Is there anyone else you would like for me to reach out to? Anyone who can replace Mr. Zayn as the keynote speaker?”

In one smooth, frustrated motion, he closed the folder and slapped it back down onto the table. The sound echoed through the room and I flinched. “Goddammit, Queenie, you have to do better than this!”

I felt my bones melt when he used the nickname he gave me when we were together. To be honest, I loved it more than my given name. “What in the world are you talking about?” I asked, indignant.

He scoffed. “The profiles look like my four-year-old niece dictated them, and where are the stories about the kids? And the aid teams? Didn’t Sami’s team send over the statistics about what they deal with over there?”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I slowly pulled the folder to me using one finger, and flipped the cover open. “If you would have let me continue, you would have found that all of that is in this report.”

“And why didn’t you lead off with that? Instead you tell me about handprints? Come on, Queenie, it’s a great idea, but _not_ what this fundraiser is about.” Slightly turning from me he tugged off his black jacket and slung it over one of the chairs. He began rolling up the sleeves on his shirt until they reached his elbows, exposing his strong forearms to my view.

“May I remind you that every year you do this to me? It’s an _annual_ event, yet you wait until a month before to pick a theme. Leaving me very little time to get invitations out, a space booked and rented, speakers lined up, presentations created, profiles written up, decorations bought, and yet you want to know why I didn’t lead with the statistics of the aid teams?” My voice had risen by the end of my tirade. More sweat pooled at the small of my back, dampening my cobalt blue silk blouse.

Tugging at his tie, he loosened it and slid the first button free on his shirt. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his gorgeous blue eyes were laser locked on me. “I do it because I know you can handle the pressure. I take my time picking each detail because I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that when I give the project over to you, you will make my ideas come to life exactly how I see them in my head.” The tie was now hanging off his shoulders and he opened more buttons on his shirt, giving me a glimpse of his broad chest as he slowly walked around the end of the table towards me. “But when I come into a meeting like this, and you deliver mundane details such as table cloths, I tend to get a little edgy, Queenie. You understand.”

I swallowed hard, the flush of my skin having nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It wasn’t that I understood his frustration, but more that I knew him, and knew that he was stressed, more than likely about something else, and he was looking to me to help him relax.

“So, you aren’t upset about the fundraiser?” I asked, leaning slightly on the table to help keep me on my feet. Finn’s expression was predatory, and my core was already weeping with want.

A slow half-smile formed on his chiseled face. “No, Queenie. You have it all well-handled.”

I understood then, why he scheduled this meeting, and why he arranged for it to be so late. Taking a deep breath, I let it out and took a step towards him, gripping one side of the tie in one hand, and pressing the other against his still-covered chest. “Well then, it would be a disservice to waste the conference room, right?” I whispered against his cheek.

Finn’s hands came up to grip my waist, and he ran his nose down the side of my face and into my neck, causing me to shiver. “Absolutely, right.”

Pressing myself fully against him, I pushed my lips to his in a heated kiss, both of us inhaling sharply through our noses at the feeling of being in each other’s arms again. Finn nipped at my lower lip and I opened for him, moaning as he delved his tongue into my mouth, claiming me as he always did. It was if no time had passed, as if we had been together just that morning. No awkwardness, no fumbling, we each knew the other, and there was no hesitation.

My hands wrapped themselves in his tie, holding him firmly to me, our lips and tongues dancing together, while his body bent me backwards slightly, intent on keeping me in place.

Gasping for air I moved back, dragging him with me as I sat up on the table. Slipping my shoes off, I kept my gaze on Finn’s, watching as he slipped his shirt off. Catching the tie before it hit the floor, I grinned at him. “Still have this, I see.”

He matched my smile, pressing his hands to the table on either side of me as I ran the tie back over his shoulders and tickled his chest with one end of it. “Of course. It’s my favorite. I wear it to all my special events.” His chest was glistening with sweat, his abs, absurdly chiseled, flushed red.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Is this meeting a special event?”

“Naturally. The Queen is holding court.”

Scoffing and rolling my eyes, I again used to tie to bring him in close. “ _You_ called this meeting, Finn.”

He only chuckled, his hands coming up to cup my face as he kissed me. “And as usual, you put me in my place pretty quickly. You are the only one who I allow to do that, you know?”

I did know, but I didn’t want to talk anymore. I wanted his skin against mine. If he brought me to this sweat box of a conference room for a reason, then I wanted to get what I needed out of this meeting too.

Crossing my arms, I pulled my blouse over the top of my head, shaking my hair out to cover my now bare shoulders. I was wearing a black lace bra and panty set that gave me confidence and sass every time I wore it. Leaning back on my hands, I gave Finn a coy smile. Wrapping my legs around his thighs, I pulled him closer to me. “Mr. Balor, I will continue to give you lip anytime you need it.”

His grin made my breath hitch as his eyes sparkled down at me. Finn oozed charm, and I was not immune. “I know where I want your lips, Queenie.” In the blink of and eye he had my hands in my lap and was wrapping his tie around them in an easy slip knot. “Down.”

Sliding down off the table with no hesitation, I made sure to press my body against his as I bent my knees to the floor, rubbing our chests together in a slow, teasing manner. Keeping my eyes on his, I unbuckled his belt and slid his zipper down before I reached into his trousers and pulled his dick free. My hands tied together slowed me down but did not deter me. “Commando once again?” It was a subject of gossip at the water cooler for the ladies in the office. Whispers of how hung he was floated around between the cubicles as he stopped by the Marketing Department for in person updates. I always bit my lip upon hearing the rumors, refused to confirm or deny. No one needed me to add fuel to the fires anyway. Finn’s dick print in his trousers did all the talking needed.

“I find it better to remove obstacles, not add them.” He carded his fingers through my hair, but did not move my head, allowing me to take my time. Finn’s cock was warm in my hand and I licked my lips. His taste was imprinted in my brain and I could still taste him in my dreams. Unwilling to wait, I slid my mouth down his shaft, taking about half of it down my throat before I had to pull back. My tongue bathed him, rubbing the skin under the head in the way I knew he liked the best.

His groan proved it. “Fuck, Queenie. Again.”

Smiling to myself, I repeated the motion a few more times, his moans more beautiful to me than any song I’d ever heard. I swallowed around him and he grunted, bunching my hair in his hand and tugging me closer so that his cock slid further down my throat.

Closing my eyes, I breathed in through my nose deeply, savoring the taste that was all Finn Balor. Moving back when I needed air, I popped off of him, looking up to find him gazing down at me with a look of adoration. “I missed your mouth,” he mutters, pulling me to my feet. “And I miss your pussy.”

Picking me up and placing me back on the table, he shoved my skirt up to my hips, stepping between my spread thighs. “Are we really going to fuck here?” I asked, nipping at his jawline, my hands traveling across his abs and chest.

Finn captured my lips in a searing kiss, then looked me in the eyes. “Worried someone might walk in, Queenie?” He traced my lace-covered core with two fingers, making me shiver. “Afraid the cleaning crew will roll in and see my bare ass pounding into your beautiful pussy?”

Moaning, his words fueling the heat of the room, I leaned back, exposing my neck to his lips. Sweat covered the both of us, dripping down between my breasts and running down his back. “I’m thinking more of security cameras, Finn.”

Against the skin at the back of my ear he whispered, “I’ll erase them, but I’m absolutely fucking you on this table.”

In a quick move he had me pressed flat against the wood, my legs in the air, and my panties off and in his pocket. Running a hand down my calf to my thigh, he watched me, watched as my chest heaved in desperation for air that was rapidly becoming impossible to catch. I was sopping wet, both in sweat and my juices, my skirt around my hips, high heels and blouse on the floor, my wrists wrapped in his tie and cradled against my chest while Finn stood between my legs looking like a god, shirtless, his pants hanging low on his hips with his cock standing out proudly. His red lips begged for more kisses, and I whined, my eyes pleading with him to do something, anything. Just make the want go away.

“Ready for me, Queenie?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

Not one to wait, Finn pulled me closer to the edge of the table and smoothly pressed himself against my opening, gently but persistently waiting for my body to accept him. It only took half a second, our eyes locked on each other, but as soon as he slid inside of me, I gasped, my back arched and my chin lifted.

“Easy,” he crooned.

I was shaking, and if I could feel it, I knew Finn could too, but he didn’t mention it. Being in Finn’s arms, having him inside of me again, had my emotions all churned up. I missed him, missed the chemistry we had outside of the Boardroom.

Shoving all that down, I reached for him, my hands sliding on the sweat that covered his shoulders. I was beginning to get annoyed with being tied. I couldn’t touch him the way I wanted to. Leaning down to cover me, Finn kissed me deeply as his hips began to move.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

Chuckling, his dick moving faster and faster inside of me, Finn buried his face in my tits, licking away the sweat that misted them. “Wrong, not God. Close though.”

I didn’t try to respond. My arms circled his neck, peering down to watch as he nipped and bit at my nipples through the lace. The swells of my breasts were cradling his handsome face. Reaching up, he plucked my left nipple out of my bra and immediately latched onto it, his mouth drawing the skin deep as his tongue laved at it.

“Fuck!” My hips tilted up, and Finn chased after me, lifting a knee to the top of the table, angling himself so that he hit my g-spot on every thrust.

Pulling away from my chest and slipping out from my bound hands, he stood upright, taking both of my legs in his hands and raising them to his shoulders. His strong, beautiful fingers encircled my ankles, holding them still. “Who’s fucking you, Queenie? You has you laid out on this table, bare pussy dripping? Who?” A quick tug from Finn had the tie fluttering to the floor and I almost sobbed in relief.

“Finn!” I yelled, grasping the end of the table for something to anchor me down. My eyes closed on their own, I couldn’t keep them open against the waves of pure pleasure coursing through me.

Finn tsked. “I’m sorry. What was that? Who?”

“FINN!”

I felt a hand leave my ankle and then reappear at my clit, causing my eyes to fly open.

“I should call the cleaning crew right now, I think. It’s not good to let pussy juice and sweat just pool on this table, right? Could stain or ruin the varnish.” His breath was labored, but his blue eyes danced with mischief. He wasn’t going to let me cum until I gave him the right answer.

“Mr. Balor. Mr. Balor is fucking me!”

He peered at me with mock disappointment, his thumb flicking over my clit even as he shifted his hips once again, causing my moans to pitch higher in tone. “We may be in his conference room, but that’s not who is fucking you, Queenie. Give me what I want. Come on!”

Recognizing the strain in his voice, knowing he was just as close as I was to spontaneously combusting, I tossed my head from side to side. “No, please, Finn. No! Don’t make me say it!” I knew what he wanted, but the word refused to form in my mind. It hurt too much to think of him that way.

Finn growled, his grip on my ankle transferring to my waist, his fingers still working their magic on my clit. I was so close, but Finn was in absolute control, and I was at his mercy. “Say it!”

Tears were forming in my eyes, desperation clawing its way through my body. “Please.”

“You can cum when you tell me who has you. Who are you fucking in a conference room, huh? Who’s dick is fucking you in a room with windows, where anyone can see? Who, Queenie? Who?! Who do you belong to?!”

“MY KING!” I screamed, jackknifing up off the table and into his arms. Smoothly, as if he expected it, he caught me, grabbed a chair, and sat down in it.

“Ride your King. Ride me!”

Whining, I kissed him deeply, rocking my hips back and forth. I slid along his shaft, panting and moaning each time I moved, the feelings in my body quickly overriding my ability to speak. Finn held me to his chest, our breath intermingling, and I was unwilling to let him go.

“Fuck I missed you,” he whispered against my lips. “Missed everything about you. Come back to me, Queenie, please.”

I shifted my hips and he moaned, the sound traveling through my body making me shiver. “Finn.” I didn’t know what to say, or if I really was capable of saying much of anything at that moment.

A smack to my ass made me shriek, and Finn flashed a grin at me. “I just want you to remember how good I make you feel.”

“You do, feels so good,” I mumbled as my eyes slid closed and my head tilted back. Sweat dripped off my body and we slid together effortlessly.

Suddenly I was being whirled through the air as Finn again switched our positions, turning us so that I was in the chair and he was kneeling between my thighs, the chair pushed back against the table, squeaking everytime he thrusted into me.

My nails dug into his shoulders and my back arched a little. “I’m so close,” I whispered.

“Cum on my cock, Queenie. Remember how good this feels so you can go home and finger yourself as you debate on whether or not to call me.” His Irish tone was cocky but his face showed his strain. He was close to cumming too, only holding back because he was waiting for me. “Know only your King can do this, make you feel this way.”

As if reading my mind, he reached between us again. Thinking he was going to rub my clit, I was confused when he pushed past it to dance along my lower lips. “Finn…?”

“Shhh, just want to give you something to really think about, Queenie.” Kissing me deeply, I was momentarily distracted my Finn’s amazing mouth before I felt the slight pressure then pop of my pussy as Finn slid a finger inside me, alongside his still pistoning cock.

Stars exploded behind my eyes and first a chill and then a heatwave rushed through my body as my orgasm hit. “Finn!” I screamed, crushing his body to mine, my face buried in the crook of his neck, my eyes clenched shut against the onslaught of feelings crowding my body.

A grunt from Finn was my only clue that his own orgasm had arrived, and the lessoning of the pressure from my pussy as he removed his hand to come up to grip my waist in a death grip. My own senses were being drowned out by the buzzing in my head, and I refused to pick my head up, staying buried against Finn as he slowed his movements until he came to rest against me.

“Queenie,” he moaned, hugging me tight.

Pushing my hair off my forehead, ignoring the sweat clinging to the strands, I watched as Finn leaned back, his chiseled chest marked with red scratches I didn’t remember giving him and a satisfied smirk on his face.

“This meeting has been very productive,” he quipped, rising to his feet, tucking his dick into his pants before zipping them up and buckling his belt.

“I’ll say,” I agreed, still slumped in the chair. I wasn’t sure I could move, I felt so boneless. And I wasn’t willing to risk embarrassing myself by trying to stand.

Picking up his shirt and shrugging it on, he turned to grin at me. “Think about what I said, ok? I meant it. I miss you.” Bending, he quickly kissed the top of my head. “I gotta go, Queenie. I’m supposed to have dinner with the mayor.”

I watched as rounded the table to grab his jacket and whisked out of the room as quickly as he appeared, following him through the glass wall across my department until he arrived at the door he entered from. Looking over his shoulder at me, he beamed a smile at me and my heart melted. Then he was gone, and I was alone, left to collect myself in the overheated conference room at Balor Enterprises.

Sighing I sat up, running a hand through my hair and down the back of my neck. I felt like a mess, and I was sure I looked like one too. Biting my lip, I glanced around the room for my shirt and shoes. They were right there on the floor, so I pulled them both on as I sat in the chair where not five minutes ago Finn was railing me like a madman.

How was I going to attend meetings in this room without immediately having sexual flashbacks?

Groaning as my blouse clung to my sweaty skin, I stood up slowly, testing my wobbly legs. They seemed fine, but as I took a step forward to gather the folder across the table, I halted, a gasp slipping past my lips. Finn had my panties, and his cum was dripping down my thigh. Without meaning to, the thought made my pussy clench and I moaned.

Hanging my head, trying to breathe through my nose and out through my mouth, desperately wishing for some composure, I caught sight of something on the floor under the table. Bending over, I reached until I grasped the piece of fabric and pulled it closer to me. Upon standing upright, I bit back a smile. Finn’s mint green tie dangled from my fingers and the skin at my wrists tingled in memory.

Finn could have my panties. But I had his tie.

And he was on the way to see the mayor, while I was headed to my bathtub and a glass of wine.

Finn would have to be doubly charming with only a suit and a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> The End


End file.
